


Food and Cheer

by raja815



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Dinner, Drinking, Gen, Illustrated, Slice of Life, gross food, ladies only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raja815/pseuds/raja815
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." - JRR Tolkien </p><p>Four of the Enterprise's female officers take some time to catch up while on shore leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food and Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a challenge with [colonel_bastard](http://archiveofourown.org/users/colonel_bastard): prompt "on this planet, it's considered a delicacy." Her fic (and omg, her fic was sooo good this week you read it you go read it NOW) is [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1183352)
> 
> I wanted to do an all-women piece, so I decided to use some of the rarely-used minor characters in addition to Uhura and Chapel, so I picked two of my favorite one-episode lady officers, Lt. Charlene Masters, who appears in "The Alternative Factor," and Lt. Radha, who appears in "That Which Survives." (Masters is, according to her wardrobe, a Science division officer, but she's seen primarily working with the dilithium core in her episode, so I decided she's a petrologist (studies rocks) as a means of correcting this.) I didn't have a lot of canon material to work with, so there's a lot of headcanon going on.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope you enjoy it! Illustration is at the bottom.
> 
> Note on translation: _Chi-ku-li-ba_ and _janken_ are both versions of the game Americans call rock-paper-scissors. _Chi-ku-li-ba_ is Tamil, _janken_ is Japanese. I teach in a Japanese elementary school and we play janken at least 10 times a day so it's a subject that's very near and dear to my heart! [Here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQCSoHUMrzQ) is a wonderful video of people playing _chi-ku-li-ba_ , and [here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kd-Tr6ErqBA) is a video of people playing _janken_ and getting stuck in a tie loop, like I mention in the fic, with the added consequence of getting bashed on the head if they lose.

The four of them found a restaurant on Chrysos II within twenty minutes of beamdown, and the first thing they ordered was a round of drinks.

“Whatever you think we’d like,” Lieutenant Uhura told the waitress, waving away her offer of menus, even though the Chrysosian language was rendered in a series of pictographs that she likely could have deciphered. “We don’t get off our ship nearly enough. We’re feeling adventurous!”

“Really adventurous,” Lieutenant Masters said. She caught Lieutenant Rahda’s gaze and both of them stifled giggles. 

“We may or may not have sampled a snifter of one of Mr. Scott’s latest distillations before beamdown,” Masters whispered to Nurse Chapel, shooting her a devilish grin.

Chapel put on a mock stern look. “Pregaming the party? Why Charlene, I’d call that poor form.”

“Rebuking me? Why Chris, I’d call that jealous.”

“You two shush,” Uhura laughed. She turned back to the waitress, who was watching them patiently through large purple eyes. “I’m sorry. But yes, the drinks. I really meant it; something new. Surprise us!”

“I shall try to do so,” the waitress said, bowing in a slow sideways fashion. Her antennae almost brushed the table.

“Oh, please, a different one for each,” said Rahda, indicating each of her companions by turn. “We will taste around.”

“Of course,” the waitress said. She slithered away, back toward the kitchen, leaving a glistening purple trail of moisture on the floor in her wake.

“Whatever she brings, it’ll be better than Scott’s monstrosity,” Masters murmured. “It was worse than the galley coffee. I honestly think he might’ve just funneled some of the Enterprise’s engine fluids into a cup.”

“Approbating the Enterprise’s precious fluids for petty human consumption?” Uhura said. “I’m pretty sure he’d scream if he heard you say that.”

There was a long, silent beat before the four of them simultaneously burst out laughing. It was such a relief to be on leave.

The cocktails were served a few minute later, brought out on a beautiful black-and-white stone tray that Chapel said reminded her of a Dalmatian, just as Masters exclaimed that it looked like a dairy cow. The drinks themselves were works of art: each one a different color, garnished with fantastic fruits, and displayed in unique glasses of radically differing shapes. They nibbled on small plates tray of dried vegetable chips the waitress had brought with the drinks as Rahda divided out the glasses with a game of _chi-ku-li-ba._

"I like this better than Sulu's _janken,_ “ Chapel, the first one out, decided. She was tapping the drink Radha had given her: the tallest glass, filled with a sky-colored liquid and topped with two spirals of dark blue fruit. “This is more fun. Faster, too. He and I got stuck in an endless ‘ _aiko deshou’_ loop last week. We were about thirty ties in before we figured out who'd get the last of Yeoman Tamura’s birthday cookies."

Rahda nodded. "Yes, I like the Tamil version better than Japanese, primarily for this reason. But don't tell Sulu I said so; he is already threatened enough by me without defending his schoolyard games."

"Threatened? Why?" Uhura asked, hands raised, waiting for the next round. 

Rahda smiled coily. "Deep down, he suspects I am the better pilot. Yes, let’s go: _Chi-ku-li-ba!”_

_“Chi!”_

_“Ku!”_

_“Ba!”_

_“Li!”_

_“Li—_ damn!” Masters laughed, beaten. Rahda awarded her the second drink from the tray, a curved tumbler with a long glass straw, the liquid inside layered into three stripe of unmixed color: green, purple, blue.

"The assignment of the drinks seems really arbitrary, though," Masters said, accepting her glass nonetheless. "Why is this one better than Christine's?"

"I have ranked them due to my personal preferences alone. I am aiming for this one," Rahda said, pointing at a spherical glass full of yellow liquid, garnished with a shiny golden fruit cut into a four-pointed burst like a setting dun. "Do you see? It is of command track," she pointed to the liquid, which matched her own uniform in color, "and clearly ranked Admiral." She pointed to each golden tendril of the cut fruit at the rim—yes indeed, one, two, three, four stripes—and laughed.

Uhura laughed too. "If you wanted that one, you only had to say."

"No, no, it means nothing if it is not earned." Rahda grinned, raising her hands. "Nyota, let's go. _Chi-ku-li-ba!”_

The game finished with the Admiral’s Cocktail, as they spontaneously began to call it, triumphantly clutched in Radha’s hands. Uhura’s second prize was a diamond shaped glass filled with a lovely orange liquid garnished with a variety of cut fruits arranged into concentric circles along the rim. 

Drinks in hand they raised a variety of toasts, passing each cocktail to the right after they drank so everyone got a taste of each. They drank to the captain for granting shore leave, to the continued success of the mission, to their fellow crewmembers, and finally to the concept of toasting in general, because they needed one more to complete the circuit and get their original drinks back and no one could think of anything else.

"You know, I never knew you were aiming for the admiralty." Uhura said to Rahda, who was triumphantly sipping from her hard-won yellow cocktail. 

Rahda nodded. "Yes, it is my goal. I will be Admiral by the time I am fifty." She laughed. “Though I need to work fast, don't I? First I must command. Perhaps Captain Kirk will give me his ship, when we return to Earth and he has finished with it. That will save time."

"Wouldn't count on it," Chapel smirked. "He'll glue himself to the con before he gives the old girl up."

"I'll ask for a new one, then," Rahda said. "I will captain a new, shiny starship all the way to my admiral's stripes. So shiny it blinds anyone who tries to block me. Christine, will you be my head nurse?"

"I won't be able to," Chapel said. "When we're back at Headquarters, I'll be going for my MD. I have about two and a half years of training and then it's Dr. Chapel. I may take over for Dr. McCoy on the Enterprise's next mission, if he decided he doesn't want another run."

"Your chances may be good," Masters mused. "Seems like every time I speak to him he's got something about life in space he wants to complain about.”

Chapel smiled. "A lot of that is put on, I think. But no, I don't think deep space was something he ever really dreamed of." She looked momentarily pensive. "Actually, I never did either. If it hadn’t been for… well. It’s a fine coincidence that I've discovered I'm suited to it."

Her pensive look endured a moment longer, before she smiled again, turning to Masters. "And you, Charlene? Grand post-mission plans?"

"I'm going to spend some time grounded myself," she said. "I've done a couple of long-term experiments on dilithium power, looking at what it does when it's combined with some of the other minerals we've discovered on this mission. I want to develop a couple of theories and see if I can't improve engine power cells. You know, so that they can hold a charge during things like ion storms, and first contacts, and asteroid storms, and transporter glitches..."

"Amen," said Uhura and Chapel in perfect unison, and the entire party burst into laughter.

"Well then, we'll have renowned petrologist and power guru Charlene Masters," Masters indicated herself with a playful grin, "Doctor Christine Chapel of deep space fame, and Admiral Neema Radha, former commander of the shiniest ship in the fleet."

"Yes," said Radha, mock-toasting with the dregs of her drink.

"And what about you, Nyota?" Masters continued. “Captain Nyota Uhura, inventer of the warp 11 capable instantaneous feed subspace receiver? Admiral of Communications and Linguistics at headquarters? Translator of Dostoevsky's works into all three dialects of Romulan?"

Uhura chuckled, but looked thoughtful. "Honestly, I'm of two minds... There are days when I think I'd like to be in the fleet forever. Then there are days when I think I can't stand to be a part of that console a second longer. Like my fingers are going to fall off and the earpiece is going to graft itself to my eardrum until I'm half-robot."

"I'd pull it out for you," Chapel assured, and Uhura smiled.

"Those are the days when I think I'd like to resign commission. Settle down somewhere, maybe teach singing. I love singing, I don’t feel like I sing enough.”

“You could go on tour," Radha suggested. “I have heard you sing in the recreation hall. You have a very great talent, and could easily become a professional, if you wished to be."

"I came close," Uhura admitted. "I couldn't decide on Starfleet Academy versus music conservatory when I was a girl. I had both acceptances, and I was a wreck for weeks. Do you know, I actually flipped a coin to decide? Some days I wonder if there's some parallel universe out there, where that Nyota got heads instead over tails and is now headlining the Andorian Opera.” She laughed again. "Anyway, I've got lots of time to decide. And I'm happy as your communications officer for the time being."

In the resulting lull, they heard a small, unobtrusive sound from the space beside their table. The four turned as one and saw their waitress had returned. Unobserved by any of them; it seemed her species’ lack of legs made for incredible stealth.

"Were the drinks a sufficient surprise?" She asked, her antennae quivering in a curious manner.

"A wonderful surprise," Chapel grinned. 

"Delicious all around,” Uhura said, and Masters and Rahda chorused agreement.

"I'm very pleased," the waitress said, dipping her low, quick sideways bow as she reclaimed the Dalmatian-and/or-dairy-cow patterned tray and began clearing the empty glasses. "The chef would like your dinner order, if you are ready. Or shall I tell him you would like another surprise? I understand he has just received an entire _lllukj’baalch’ra._ ” 

Chapel, Masters, and Radha looked blank, and turned questioning gazes to Uhura.

"It's... seafood?" Uhura asked, translating from memory, and the waitress puzzled over the word for a moment before nodding.

"Yes. A… a ‘seafood,’ is what it is. On this planet, it is considered a delicacy."

“Well. Are we still feeling adventurous?" Uhura glanced around to her companions and recieved a series of nods and short words of agreement. “Sounds like it's decided. _Lllukj’baalch’ra_ all around!”

"The full course?" The waitress asked. "It will come prepared in fourteen different styles."

"Even better.”

“Excellent. I will be back shortly with course one: the tentacles."

She slithered away with the tray, back into the kitchen. The four women looked around at each other, eyes widening.

"...Did she just say ’the tentacles'?" Masters asked, and the entire group burst into nervous laughter.

"I was a vegetarian as a child," Rahda said, pressing her head into her hands and speaking through lingering chuckles. "My mother was furious when I she learned at Starfleet Academy I began to eat meat." She shuddered. "'The tentacles,' aaaargh... Perhaps this is my mother's revenge?"

"It won't be that bad," Uhura assured. "Come on, on Earth humans eat calamari all the time. That's just squid tentacles."

"And octopus!” Chapel added. "Sushi; you can get that anywhere."

"But that's just _normal,_ “ Masters moaned. "What if it's something like Denebrian slime devil tentacles? I helped biosciences preserve a batch of them a few weeks ago. Yuck, they were like… like hoses of mucous! Purple mucous!”

"But that's normal if you're Denebrian," Uhura argued. “They eat them all the time. And besides, it couldn’t be worse than eating _stewed pig's feet._ “

"Eww!" Chapel and Radha cried, laughing.

"Hey." Masters said. "If pig's foot souse is wrong, then I don't want to be right. Pig's foot souse is delicious."

"It's pig's feet!" Uhura laughed. "Char, they are the _feet_ of a _pig_!”

"Well, you're one to talk." Masters turned to her friend, a wicked grin on her face. "Did I or did I not once watch you buy a package of _fried termites_ at Space Station 14?"

"Bugs?!" Christine cried, pressing her hand dramatically to her mouth. "Ohhh, Nyota, why?!"

"My grandfather used to make them!" Uhura laughed. "He'd gather them up on walks and then fry them up at home. Every weekend when I was a child, it was a fit of nostalgia. Oh come on, it’s not _that_ strange!"

"Not strange at all," Radha said. She turned to Masters, grinning, and stuck out her tongue. "Not like eating a pig's feet." 

"Oh please," Masters said, still chuckling. "You and Yeoman Zahra split that pot of _kopi luwak_ the very same day I last ate a pig's foot. You want to sit here and tell me _I’m_ disgusting?"

"What's _kopi luwak_?” Chapel asked.

"It's shit coffee, that's what it is," Masters laughed.

"They roast coffee beans taken from the excrement of—they clean them first!" Radha cried, when the other three women exploded into theatrical groans of disgust. "Zahra and I are coffee fans, and it is the rarest coffee of all!"

"That's a hell of a sales pitch, given it's shit coffee," Masters said, and Chapel dissolved into snickers, pressing her face into her hands.

"But Christine, why are you laughing?" Radha asked, turning on the nurse. "I think you have all of us beat."

Christine peered out through her fingers, grinning wickedly. 

"I know I do," she said, proudly. “ _Lutfisk_! I love it!"

Uhura mimed gagging. "I still can't believe you eat it. Fish fermented in lye! It's practically poison, and it sure smells like it. One of the yeoman actually vomited the last time she ate it.”

"He'd been feeling off all day," Chapel said dismissively. "I did him a favor."

"It didn't stop Dr. McCoy banning you from ever eating it in public space again," Uhura said, and Chapel pretended to throw some of the dried vegetable chips at her. 

“Oh, if it's come to a food fight—" Uhura said, grinning as she reached for her own chips, but was stopped when Masters gasped.

"Oh god," she whispered, looking dramatically toward the kitchen door, which had just swung open. "I think it's the tentacles."

It was indeed, and the four of them managed to stifle their laughter just as the waitress slithered up to their table holding a large covered tray. When she got there she bowed again, twice, and whipped the cover open with a flourish, releasing a pungent cloud of green and purple steam.

“Course one,” the waitress said, displaying it proudly, “the tentacles.” 

She smiled warmly and handed around small bowls, one to each woman. Like the cocktail glasses, each bowl was of a different design, exquisitely shaped from colored glass of varying textures, but this time the content was the same in each: a gelatinous magenta soup in which squirmed a tangle of multicolored, bulbous, clearly still-living tentacles.

“The tentacles are consumed thus,” the waitress instructed, taking an empty bowl from her apron pocket to demonstrate. “Hold the bowl in both your hands, tilt it to your lips, relax your throat, and swallow the entire contents in one mouthful. This method yields the most superior taste; to sip it slowly ruins the composition. The tentacles will move within your throat, but will still shortly after reaching your stomach. Most find the sensation extremely pleasant. I hope you do as well. Course two will be, of course, the stingers. I will return with them shortly.”

She gave another sideways bow, and retreated for the kitchen.

“Nyota,” Masters whispered. “I blame you for this entirely. You’re the communications officer, how didn’t you think to ask what a _llu… luck-kaj-black-rarr_ even is?”

“ _Llukj’baalch’ra_ ,” Uhura corrected. “‘ _Ra’_ is the suffix they use for seafood. I thought that was good enough to go on, she sounded like she was having trouble translating and I didn’t want to embarrass her. Come on, it can’t be worse than _lutfisk _.”__

__“Fair point.”_ _

__“ _Hey!_ ” Said Chapel, incensed. _ _

__“Now, now,” said Radha, raising her hand against an argument. “Are we Starfleet officers or are we not? The time has come, I think, to boldly eat what no man has eaten before.”_ _

__Uhura laughed. “Well put, Admiral Radha.” When Rahda gave a mock-bow, Uhura raised her own bowl in a final toast. “To new frontiers?”  
“To new frontiers!” The other three replied. _ _

__They each watched the other, waiting for someone to make the first move. When no one (except the tentacles) had moved for almost half a minute, they all simultaneously broke down laughing._ _

__“Okay, but seriously, this time,” Masters said._ _

__“Yes,” said Rahda. “To new frontiers.”_ _

__“And future plans,” added Chapel._ _

__“And good friends,” smiled Uhura._ _

__“And schoolyard games,” laughed Radha._ _

__"We're getting awfully sentimental, for a bunch of idiots who are about to gulp down squirming tentacles," Masters grumbled, and they were lost in laughter again._ _

__“Cheers!” They all chorused once they'd calmed down, and after three more false starts, they finally raised their bowls to their lips and drank the wriggling contents down._ _

__The tentacles, they all admitted afterward, were actually a hell of a lot better than any of them had been expecting. And the rest of the night was even better._ _

____


End file.
